


Soul to Soul

by peppermintquartz



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Childhood Friends, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-23 07:55:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11398317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppermintquartz/pseuds/peppermintquartz
Summary: A story of Chirrut and Baze from the time they met till the time they wed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, i am delving into A/B/O. What better place to start than with aliens, right?  
> I have never written A/B/O in depth before but I will try.  
> Also: Mpreg exists in this 'verse but I am not writing it. It will be discussed though.

Six-year-old Chirrut wasn’t sure if this place was going to be everything Uncle Rook said it was, but he had no choice anyway. His parents, already burdened with seven other children, could hardly afford to feed him, and when the Whills’ mark appeared on his skin, their relief had been so palpable that little Chirrut could hardly protest.

He didn’t _like_ Jedha City. It was too dusty and too noisy, too crowded with people. How could they live on top of on another like this? The din was enough to drive anyone mad, and the _smells_... Even the bantha sheds back home smelled nicer than some of the “aromas” wafting from the alleys. Keeping close to the man who had been sent to fetch him and other potentials from the scattered villages in the east, Chirrut took in as much of the city as he could bear, while his heart fluttered rapidly in his chest like a bird trying to escape.

“That’s the temple,” Uncle Rook told the half-dozen in his group. He had big, soft, kind eyes and a lively smile. Chirrut liked _him_. “There are boys and girls of your age, all learning how to become guardians. One day, you’d be protectors of the people on this moon.”

“Do we have to become guardians?” one of the girls asked. Chirrut remembered her name was Jini, who had cried nearly every night since they left their homes.

Uncle Rook shrugged and smiled apologetically. “I don’t know, Jini, but give the temple a try, okay? Perhaps you’ll find it a good path for you after all.”

As they neared the great metal gates, a strange warmth erupted in Chirrut’s belly, the sort of feeling you get after a meal you’ve been looking forward to all day. It spread to his arms and legs, tingling and comforting all at once.

There were two guardians at the gates. Uncle Rook told them to stay on a landing nearby while he went to talk to the guardians, showing the papers that verified the children’s identities.

Chirrut tried not to stare at the guardians, but he had to: one was tall, with deep green scaly skin that shimmered purple-blue when they moved, and the other was a shorter, bearded man that looked a lot like Chirrut’s father. They looked powerful and strong.

The warm sensation stirred in Chirrut’s chest. He fidgeted with his roughspun shirt, and shifted from foot to foot. Something inside the temple wanted him to go in there. He surreptitiously peeked at the other five kids. None of them seemed eager to be here. In fact, Jini looked like she was going to cry again.

“I want to go home,” she whimpered. “I don’t like Jedha City. I don’t want to be a guardian.”

Chirrut tuned her out. Something was telling him that he belonged here, despite the noise and the crowds and the stench. Tentatively, he took a step upwards, towards the gates, and the warmth inside grew stronger, as if the sun of the growing season glowed inside him. The sensation of _something_ tugging him forward intensified. Chirrut bit his lower lip and took a step back. The feeling became more insistent.

Uncle Rook gestured wildly, and the two guardians chuckled. The other kids were talking quietly among themselves, and some of them tried to comfort Jini. No one was paying attention to scrawny little Chirrut Imwe.

Finally, he could no longer deny the feeling. He dashed forward, as fast as his thin legs could carry him, right past Uncle Rook and the guardians, into the temple. He didn’t pause in the shaded temple square, nor did he get sidetracked by the magnificent carvings on the pillars and walls. He pelted straight on, turning as the sensation in his chest guided him, not even aware that he was running into the initiates’ quarters. He only stopped running when he collided with another boy who looked to be his age, just half a head taller and much stouter.

The warmth inside exploded like a flurry of starlit joy. He _knew_.

“It’s you,” Chirrut breathed, a wide, gap-toothed smile wreathing his face. “You’re here.”

The boy had a round face and large, sticking-out ears. His eyes were round too, and his smile was wide and joyous. “It’s you. You’ve come.”

Then, as the guardians at the gate and Uncle Rook caught up, the two boys asked simultaneously, “What’s your name?”

***

After he had been lectured about barging into the temple, Chirrut learned that the other boy’s name was Baze Malbus, and he was in an older class group. Master Deimas had seemed more amused than angry, however, and Uncle Rook had been very pleased that Chirrut was so eager to stay in the temple.

 _Baze Malbus. Baze. Baze Malbus._ Chirrut chanted the name under his breath, even though it was already seared into his mind. Baze had an open, honest face, and Chirrut wanted to talk to him. Their brief encounter had been a supernova, indelible and momentous, but the boy wanted to know _everything_ about Baze.

Unfortunately for Chirrut, the rest of his day was spent collecting uniforms, being led around the temple grounds, and being spoken to by a dizzying number of masters and guardians. Very little of what they said penetrated Chirrut’s head. He was too busy wondering about Baze Malbus and when he could see the other boy again.

The other five kids were thoroughly confused by Chirrut’s happiness to live here, away from his family, and so shunned him. He didn’t mind. All he could think about was that round face with the sticking-out ears, that oddly low voice with the unfamiliar yet pleasing accent, and the eyes that had brightened with sheer bliss upon seeing Chirrut. And why that glimmering warmth inside Chirrut waxed like NaJedha in full light.

He fell asleep with a smile on his face.


	2. Chapter 2

The first full day was crammed full of too many new experiences for Chirrut to contain it all in his head and he wanted to search for Baze to share everything with him. He had half-feared that it had all been a dream, that the other boy wasn’t real, but the moment the morning gong sounded, he had sensed the same pull as he had the previous afternoon. 

At the morning meal, he and Baze had waved eagerly at each other but were called to order by their respective instructors. They didn’t share any classes, and Chirrut’s attention kept wandering whenever he sensed Baze moving about the temple grounds.

After the evening chores - he and the other newcomers were assigned to clear the tables, which was a simple enough task - he quickly cleaned up in the dormitory refresher and hurried down to the initiates’ communal space.

Baze was indeed there, bouncing on his heels. When he saw Chirrut, he grinned shyly. “Hello.”

“Hey,” Chirrut responded, suddenly overwhelmed by how  _ right _ it felt to be talking to this boy whom he barely knew. 

The tips of the other initiate’s large ears were bright pink. “I know you, but I don’t,” he said. His voice was low and sweet. 

Chirrut nibbled on the knuckle of his thumb, a nervous habit from his teething days. “Me neither.” He smiled, shy and happy at the same time. “I’m the youngest of seven. Uncle Rook took me here.”

Baze frowned in puzzlement. “Who is Uncle Rook?”

Chirrut then launched into a recount of Uncle Rook and his trip to Jedha City, which then prompted Baze to share his journey into the temple. They sat side by side in the corner, chatting happily away about everything they could think of, not paying attention to the older initiates who gathered in their small groups. Chirrut could not stop grinning and smiling. He felt warm and at home, even though home was very far away right then. Holding Baze’s hand was reassuring too.

When the gong for curfew sounded, Chirrut had to return to his bed reluctantly. At least he learned a great deal more about this sweet boy with the shy smile and soft eyes.

He had learned that Baze hated tarine tea, liked gardening, and found talking in front of other people difficult. He and Baze both hated the stink in the alleys of Jedha City, and enjoyed listening to the chirping of the perra flitters. While Chirrut liked spicy food, Baze didn’t, but Baze liked a special candy that he promised he’d share with Chirrut the next time he got some. 

THe thing Chirrut liked most was Baze’s laugh. Baze laughed the way he looked: a gentle, steady chuckle, a sound that reminded the younger boy of thunder before the rare seasonal rains back home, a time of joy and delight for the entire village. 

He wanted to make Baze laugh every time they meet.

***

Their evening meetings became a ritual until Chirrut caught up to Baze’s learning group. In the colder months, Baze and Chirrut would huddle together with their blankets around them as they talked about everything and nothing. Sometimes they just sat holding hands and grinned goofily at the pleasant, golden-warm feeling inside. 

With the older boy’s help, Chirrut soon became part of Baze’s class, and he was moved into the same dormitory. The two boys pushed their narrow cots together the night Chirrut changed rooms. Though the masters initially made them separate their cots and even punished them, the two kept pushing their beds together. In the end, they were left alone. The two of them slept holding hands, and every morning the one who woke would flick the other on the nose.

***

When Chirrut and Baze each lost one of their front teeth at the same time, he and Baze snuck into the meditation garden to plant them under the Abbot’s uneti tree. They had heard from one of the older initiates that doing so would grant them a wish made for their best friend.

“I wish to be with you forever,” Chirrut said seriously as he patted the earth over their baby teeth, buried together in a tiny paper envelope. He pushed his tongue at the funny gap in his front teeth.

Baze grinned, his sweet smile very cute with the matching little gap in his front teeth. “Then I wish to be with you forever plus one day,” he declared. 

“You can’t say that! Then you’re with me longer than I’m with you,” Chirrut argued, though he was very happy inside. “That’s cheating.”

Baze stuck his tongue out at him.

***

“You two are weird,” a classmate, Shana, said one afternoon after they had finished their zama-shiwo training, a year into Chirrut’s arrival at the temple. “Why are you and Baze always together?”

Legs still sore and shaking, Chirrut lowered himself to the sandy ground gingerly. “Because he’s Baze,” he replied. It was a silly question, he thought. Everyone in the temple knew Baze and Chirrut belonged by each other’s side. “Anyway, he’s not here now. He’s over there, talking to brother Roj.”

Shana frowned. “I mean, you are always close to each other, and I’ve seen you holding hands all the time, even in prayers. My twin sister and I aren’t as close as you two. You’re weird.”

“That’s your problem,” Chirrut said. “Baze and I are the bestest of best friends. We are going to be together forever and ever.”

“That’s stupid. You can’t be together forever. Someday you’d be guardians and you’ll be sent to different places and you won’t even remember to write,” Shana snapped.

Though he was exhausted from the stance training, Chirrut kicked her in the shin and when she retaliated, he grabbed her and started punching and biting her. Their screaming and yelling caught the attention of their instructors and the other children, who egged on the fight.

The scuffle didn’t last long, but Chirrut had to be physically dragged aside by the instructors. 

“What on Jedha are you doing?” Brother Roj was not impressed at all.

Chirrut didn’t want to answer, but Baze looked afraid and worried. It made Chirrut’s insides twist uncomfortably, and the warm feeling he associated with Baze was now a slick, greasy chill. Still feeling angry and hot, Chirrut shouted at Shana, “You’re a stinky liar and I hope you never become a guardian!”

At that, Shana burst into tears.

Brother Roj smacked the back of Chirrut’s head. “Go back to the dormitory, Imwe. You’re to be confined today, and no meals at all. Malbus, if you bring food to him, I will double the punishment and send you both to the Abbot.”

It was only in the peace and quiet of the dormitory that Chirrut calmed down. Then he remembered that Shana’s mother was a guardian who had been sent out recently. That was why Shana and her sister Leina joined their class, though they were new. Shana must have felt abandoned by her mother. It didn’t make the girl’s words sting less, but Chirrut did feel a little ashamed of his actions.

When Baze slipped into the dormitory between lessons and mealtime, Chirrut had already written out a note of apology. “Could you give this to Shana?” he asked.

“She told me what she said. Don’t believe her, okay?” Baze replied in a fierce whisper. He squeezed Chirrut’s hands. “I’ll be with you forever, even when we become guardians. We’ve already made our wishes under the uneti tree, anyway. Shana knows nothing.”

Chirrut nodded. “Yeah. But I still shouldn’t have fought her.”

“I’ll pass her your note, but I’ll make her apologize too. No one bullies my Chirrut.” Baze scowled so ferociously that the younger boy had to hug him.

He knew they would always be together. The uneti tree would definitely grant their wishes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry i have been away for so long... Real life sapped the muse of all power and I had no time to indulge in any kind of writing. Will try to write as often as I can :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologize, i had to delete the previous version of chapter 3 because it didn't convey what i needed it to.

They kissed for the first time on Baze’s thirteenth birthday.

It should have been sweet and special, but as it turned out, Baze had been climbing the temple wall in a misguided attempt to break some Force-forsaken record among the acolytes just to win a special enameled pin from Shana. (Never let it be said that Chirrut was the only reckless initiate in the cohort.) 

Instead of breaking the record, Baze Malbus fell and nearly broke his neck. He knocked himself out for a good twenty minutes, during which Chirrut had panicked and cried so hard his throat was raw. Even though the masters reassured Chirrut that Baze would be alright, the younger boy still knelt by Baze, sobbing and calling his name, and kissed him.

It was wet and sticky and gross, because Chirrut crying was an absolute  _ mess _ , but Baze’s eyelids fluttered open, so on the whole Chirrut counted it a success. It wasn’t nearly worth the lurch of utter terror when he had felt their connection break. If Chirrut hadn’t been listening with all his might, he would have missed the quiet thrum of their bond in the screaming panic that was his conscious mind.

Baze spent the rest of his birthday in the infirmary, and was roundly berated by the masters for being a foolhardy idiot. Chirrut had sat with him, adding  _ “I told you so” _ whenever he could. 

Once Baze was discharged, they kissed again, and that one was much, much better.

***

When Chirrut was fourteen and Baze fifteen, they and other native Jedhan initiates attended a lecture conducted by one of the most experienced healers on the arid moon. Baze and Chirrut knew what it was about and sat by each other, their hands intertwined. The other dozen or so initiates scattered among the rest of the lecture’s attendees, some seeking their friends who weren’t members of the temple.

“As you know,” said healer Elwan, “most Jedhans have a secondary gender. Commonly called 2G, this is a trait developed early after our ancestors colonized NiJedha. Records indicate that the mutation stemmed from a plague that decimated nearly 80 percent of the population at that time...”

Chirrut leaned over to Baze and murmured, “What if we’re both alphas?”

Smiling in reassurance, Baze squeezed Chirrut’s hand. “We are bound, regardless of our 2G. Besides, we’re in the temple. It won’t matter as much.”

The healer glared at them and the two initiates subsided. Nevertheless, Chirrut worried. Jedhans valued tradition and were slow to change, and one of the traditional views that was common throughout the moon was that alphas could not be a mated pair. Would the masters allow Baze and Chirrut to work and live together when they attain guardianship? 

“...symptoms of Heat and Rut are very similar, and can be mistaken as the other sometimes...”

He glanced sidelong at his placid friend. Baze was listening attentively, as if he was trying to capture all the information with his large, adorable, sticking-out ears. In the past year, Baze had grown taller and broader, even though he had too little meat on him still, and was likely to be a big, strong man, like Master Huwen Ishi, who was rumored to have once shoved a dead bantha for a hundred yards all by himself. Chirrut knew that Baze would be a guardian wanted anywhere in the system. Strong and reliable, with gentle eyes and a gentle voice, Baze Malbus would be the epitome of a Guardian of the Whills.

As if sensing Chirrut’s focus, the older initiate’s cheeks turned pink and he nudged Chirrut in the side lightly. “Pay attention,” he mouthed, not looking at Chirrut at all.

The younger initiate pretended to sigh, but did sit up a little straighter in his seat. 

“... no circumstance should anyone try to manipulate their 2G,” Elwan said, slapping the podium with a palm to emphasize his point. His gaze swept over the audience. “Some people assume that your 2G and your personality are related, as if aggressiveness or humility is tied to being an alpha or an omega or a beta. In reality, your 2G is a physical trait. It is as integral to you as whether you’re right or left-handed, and has as much the same impact on your personality.”

***

“Do you think I’ll be an alpha or an omega?” Chirrut asked Baze as they strolled hand-in-hand back to their duty stations after dinner. It was an easy night for them, since they were just folding and sorting laundry. It was tedious and monotonous, but the laundry was warm and always smelled of the sun. It was also one of Baze’s favorite duties, so while Chirrut loathed the dullness, he made sure to share the same duty with his Baze.

Baze cocked his head in contemplation. “I don’t know,” he said at last. “Does it really matter?”

“Of course it doesn’t,” Chirrut replied quickly. “Come on, the earlier we’re done, the earlier we can go to bed.”

Yet to him it  _ did  _ matter, it mattered quite a lot. If he and Baze were complementary, then no one would be able to tear them apart. Furthermore (here he had to fight down a blush) it was said that the sex between a mature omega and mature alpha was phenomenal. Sometimes, in the dead of night, Chirrut could hear piercing cries somewhere from the city, and on a few occasions there were muffled screams from the seniors’ rooms. 

At this stage, the furthest he and Baze had gone were careful, shy kisses, always somewhere private where no one could see. Whenever they kissed, Chirrut would feel hot and restless in his skin. He liked kissing Baze, who often tasted of tea in the mornings and of their daily  _ pai _ bean soup in the evenings. Chirrut had thought about sex, about making love to his Baze, but he was cautious about where he considered such thoughts. Never in the dormitory with the others around. Never at meditation, because Master Olokai was uncannily sharp. But alone in the fresher or when they were hiding in a remote stairwell, just embracing and kissing, then Chirrut would let his mind wander. Vaguely-formed images of skin on skin, or touching one another intimately. And while Chirrut was more than ready to do more, Baze wasn’t. They knew that they aroused each other, but whenever he wanted to touch Baze, the older initiate would draw back. Chirrut never pushed. 

But if both of them were omegas or both were alphas, how would they satisfy each other sexually? Alphas gave; omegas received. That was what the texts said. Betas, who felt neither heat nor rut, could do either.

He stole a glance at Baze, whose shirtsleeves had been rolled up to better haul the heavy loads of robes and towels to and from the big carts that would be lowered into the washing caverns. Baze was a gentle soul. He listened to people, and accepted them as they were. Chirrut believed that Baze was going to be an omega. The older youth had the build for it too, if he kept growing the way he did. Omegas had to be strong and sturdy to withstand an alpha’s claiming, they had to bear children and thus required more heft. What would a pregnant Baze look like, he wondered? 

Sighing, Chirrut focused on the menial task of taking soiled underclothes from the gigantic pile in the center. It was too much to think about in the laundry anyway. Baze would come into season perhaps in the next eight to nine months, but Chirrut himself had at least a year before his own season arrived, though it wasn’t uncommon for early heats or ruts.

Whatever they turned out to be, Chirrut belonged with Baze, and if anyone in the system dared to pry them apart, then they had to deal with Chirrut Imwe.


	4. Chapter 4

It was the Festival of Vitz, a revered Jedhan deity predating the Whills. She purportedly returned the stars to the heavens after a mythic galactic battle. They were on the roof admiring lanterns floating skyward after having spent the earlier part of the night dancing and feasting down among the celebrants. For once Chirrut was not trying to lure Baze into more passionate kisses. They were just resting together, sometimes pointing out to each other a fanciful lantern.

The younger initiate brushed his fingers down Baze’s arm. It was pleasantly breezy, without the usual desert dryness. Music filtered up to the roof, adding to the dreamlike air.

Chirrut snuggled closer to Baze. At fifteen and sixteen, they had both grown considerably: Chirrut was taller, and his joints no longer ached. Baze was broader and heavier-set, his shoulders no longer bony and he had finally adjusted to his width. His elbows and knees were no longer bruised with unintended collisions with doorways or furniture.

It was also getting more difficult for Chirrut to keep his hands to himself when they kissed. At least Baze was less skittish about being seen kissing. Everyone was waiting for them to make their union official when they finally come into season. There still were a few confident Jedhan initiates who believed they could snag either Baze Malbus, the temple’s golden boy, or Chirrut Imwe, the temple’s daring rebel. Baze had only laughed at the thought of any of them breaking the bond between them.

Secretly Chirrut fretted about it. He was not the masters’ favorite. He knew that Master Erdin favored Shana as a potential mate for Baze, for she was studious and devoted. A number of seniors who hated Chirrut were betting on Pillenai Orsei, a beautiful young Jedhan omega from the east. Orsei had the most perfect nose Chirrut had ever seen, and stunning violet eyes rimmed with dark lashes. He was consecrated to the temple and would live out his days as part of the guardians, never to leave. He also Baze’s partner for kitchen duty. Chirrut would have remained Baze’s partner if not for the fact that Chirrut had been caught hoarding sweets.

Baze kissed the top of Chirrut’s head. “I need to tell you something you’re probably not going to like.”

“Then don’t tell me.”

“If I don’t, then you’ll be angry with me for not telling you.”

Chirrut grunted. “Fine. What is it?”

“Master Erdin wants me on the next team to Coruscant.” Baze sighed and rested his cheek against Chirrut’s temple. “In ten days.”

The younger initiate jerked upright and Baze yelped. Chirrut stared at him. “Ten days? Why you? Wait, of course you’re going, you have been studying the history of the Jedi. The question is, why am _I_ not going? Who else is going?”

Baze rubbed his sore cheek. “Because you requested an intensive at the kyber atelier, remember? Master Fenwoo already approved your stay there. Pillenai and Shana and Wu Kalux. And I can’t give this chance up, Cricket. I’ve wanted to see the Jedi Temple since I came here.”

Chirrut looked at the wistful yearning in Baze’s eyes and ached with love for him. Baze was devoted to the Force and to Chirrut, and to deny Baze his opportunity to visit the heart of the Jedi order was out of the question.

He was about to speak when the other initiate suddenly grunted and grabbed his abdomen. “That... that doesn’t feel- Ow!”

“Baze? What’s wrong?”

“That was... _Oh._ ” Baze bent over, gulping in air. His little gasps sent shivers down Chirrut’s spine. “Chi...Cricket, I... oh. Oh _Force_.”

Worried and fearful, Chirrut leaned closer to hear what Baze was muttering, and suddenly caught a strong scent of smoked fruit. The older initiate’s skin was hot to the touch, as if he had a fever. His heart leaped and began pounding; his mouth went dry.

Baze was coming into season. The medics had talked about the signs of maturing into 2G. The abdominal cramps, the bursts of heat. The scent. He would come into season in seven days, perhaps fewer, but now they would know what Baze’s 2G was.

“We have to get you inside,” said Chirrut. He didn’t know where his composure was coming from. He could practically hear his pulse and he was practically _drooling_. His nerves thrummed with anticipation and anxiety.

They made it inside, but at the first landing they got to, Baze shoved Chirrut against a wall and started kissing him fiercely, almost biting at the younger initiate’s mouth. Thrilled and scared at the same time, Chirrut tried to squirm away, but Baze pushed him back against the wall. A deep growl rumbled from his chest as he gripped Chirrut’s arms and the latter whimpered. Baze pulled away with some difficulty and licked his lips, plush with kissing. His grip flexed and tightened before he tore his hands away entirely.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, that... That wasn’t. I didn’t mean to... I-I need to get inside. Away from you, for now.” His forehead glistened with sweat and his cheeks were very red.

Chirrut nodded. He wasn’t ready, not yet, but the potential he had just glimpsed heated his belly.

***

Baze tested out an Alpha.

For the next couple of days, Baze was isolated as his body adjusted to his 2G manifesting. Chirrut barely ate and he slept only for two hours every night. He missed seeing the shadowy heft of Baze in the next bed.

He was also terrified of what this might mean. Pillenai Orsei was an omega. Shana was a beta, but she liked Baze. More importantly, their 2G had already presented. Chirrut, on the other hand, was still waiting to come into season.

What if the masters decide that this was the best chance of forever separating Chirrut and Baze? Already they had shown that they had no compunctions keeping the two young men apart. They wanted to tie Baze down to the temple. If Chirrut were a master guardian, he would want to make sure Baze would always be part of the temple too.

His thoughts ran around in circles. He had no one to talk to about his fears. The only person he felt comfortable enough opening up to was in isolation.

“He could come into rut tonight,” he whispered to himself. “He could be coming into rut right now and I wouldn’t know it.”

“Imwe!” Kiro, his partner for kitchen duty, bounced over to him. Her four large ears were perked up, their scarlet tips nearly glowing. She could read Jedhan but spoke it poorly. “I need a translator for the marketplace. Come with me?”

Chirrut wanted to say no. However, Kiro was always nice to him, even if she wouldn’t let him steal any of the sweets. Besides, staying here in the temple wouldn’t help either Baze or himself.

As they wend through the marketplace, Chirrut could not keep his mind off Baze. Kiro’s pleasant chatter floated right over the Jedhan, although Chirrut answered her questions when she had any. She picked up a lot of local ingredients, like fara root powder and the Tahwei spice that enhanced spicy foods. While most of the vendors had a fair grasp of Basic, the explanations they gave were mostly in Jedhan, so Chirrut did a lot of translating. They eventually came to a street of pharmacists and apothecaries. Kiro stopped outside a well-lit one.

“You don’t have to come in with me if you don’t want to. They speak Basic,” Kiro said. “Thanks, Imwe, you really helped me with getting all these.”

“You’re welcome,” said Chirrut. “I’ll, uh, just carry on walking. I’ve not been out for quite some time.”

Kiro smiled and bounced into the shop, leaving the youth alone in the middle of the street. Chirrut peered about, somewhat forlornly; he liked visiting shops he had never been, but it wasn’t fun without Baze’s company. Sticking his hands into his pockets to make sure no one tried to filch the contents, he strolled down the row of shops, and stopped when he saw a discreet little holo sign flashing _Sync Up Your 2G Cycles: Enquire Within._

With a nervous glance up and down the street, Chirrut ducked inside the shop. It smelled of strange mixtures and smoke, and row upon row of different colored bottles stood on sturdy rock ledges carved into the back wall. The proprietor was a quiet, thin man with a white goatee and very dark eyes behind thin-framed spectacles.

“How may I assist you, young guardian?” he asked.

Chirrut blinked, suddenly nervous. He knew it probably was not wise to do this, but he couldn’t not give it a shot. Clearing his throat, he stammered, “I saw, um. The syncing up of... To-to sync up cycles. My partner is going into rut very soon, like in days, and I... I’m not. I don’t want him to, um...”

The proprietor squinted at Chirrut. “You’re very young to have a partner.”

“We have a soul bond. I met him when I was six years old.”

The older man broke into a smile. “Ah, that is wonderful. Congratulations. It must be really hard when your partner is in rut and you’re not able to support him through it. What I have is good for those of us who are already bound. Your first cycle together must have been quite magical, with your soul bond and all.”

“It was... it was new. And, um. We-we didn’t know what we were doing, not really. But it felt good. It felt... It felt very good.”  Chirrut’s heart was racing. He didn’t want to admit that he and Baze were not physically bound yet. It was a silly, childish notion, and he _knew_ it was silly and childish, but he wanted to stake his claim on Baze publicly, even if this was to someone who would forget him as soon as he walked out the door.

Laughing, the proprietor nodded. “Yes, first times are tricky, what with our minds addled by all the hormones. Since you have already been together, I can give you this decoction.” He turned around and plucked a narrow bottle of faintly pink liquid. “It accelerates your cycle to within two hours. Powerful stuff, but it works with omegas and alphas. My suggestion is to take half of it the moment your partner’s rut kicks in, and by the time he’s at his peak, you’ll be ready to meet him there. The other half you can use a second time. After that, your cycles should sync up.”

Chirrut took the bottle. He was surprised his hand didn’t shake. “How much is it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologize for the long wait. everything is planned out, and i will finish the fic, i promise. thank you for your support and encouragement.


	5. Chapter 5

Chirrut was quaking inside. His palms were clammy and his thoughts kept crashing into one another. His heartbeat was racing, and it hurt inside his chest. It was so _hot_ , but no one else seemed bothered by the heat.

Fala was the first to notice that Chirrut wasn’t feeling well. “What happened to you?”

“I don’t... I don’t know,” Chirrut lied. He clutched at Fala’s wrist. “Can you get one of the medics?”

“Of course,” she said, and sprinted off.

Chirrut glanced at his little lock-box, the one every initiate had for their most private possessions. He’d drunk the concoction the moment he had some time alone; barely twenty minutes had passed before his insides started twisting. He could feel himself aching where he opened; already the seat of his pants were damp.

Fala came pelting back with one of the junior medics, whose name escaped Chirrut at the moment. The second the medic entered the dormitory, he halted. “You’re going into heat.”

“I-I am?” Chirrut gasped.

Fala covered her mouth. “Oh no, we have to get you to Baze!”

“Baze,” Chirrut groaned and let his head roll back. “Yes, Baze. I need Baze. Where is he?”

“Malbus is not yet in rut...” the medic said hesitantly. When Chirrut fixed his tearing eyes on him, the medic squared his shoulders. “Probably because he was waiting for you. You’re soul-bound, right? He told me. Um, Fala, grab a towel and wrap it about him, we’ll go by the less-used paths.”

The journey from the dorms to the isolation chambers was interminable. Chirrut kept gulping in air and his skin felt like it was scraped raw. Fala reassured him, saying that they weren’t too far from Baze, and that it would soon be alright. Then she had to leave him in the care of the medic, who checked his vitals in record time.

“Alright, here we go. Room 12,” the medic said as a partition slid open into a small holding space with another door. “Get in there. I’ll unlock the other door after I lock this one. Alpha pheromones affect everyone.”

Chirrut nodded. His tongue felt thick in his mouth. He stepped into the narrow chamber. The door he came in by whooshed shut, and then the one in front of him slid open.

A gust of the sweetest, richest scents rushed over him. Instantly, his mouth was wet with saliva; he ached, feeling hollow with yearning. Baze was on the pallet, apparently meditating. Only the sheen of sweat and his lack of clothes gave any indication of his discomfort.

“Baze?”

“Chirrut?” Baze’s eyes snapped open. “Force, what-” His nose caught a whiff of Chirrut. “Oh. _Oh.”_

The younger initiate ran in and threw his arms around Baze. “Yes. Yes yes yes. Please, I need- it _hurts..._ ”

Baze was already tonguing Chirrut’s neck and sucking on his earlobe, his large hands trying to yank down Chirrut’s ruined pants. The older initiate growled when he realized he had to separate from Chirrut in order to strip him.

The growl made Chirrut clench with lust. He helped to pull off his clothes, as quickly as he could. Where Baze’s hands were on him, his skin felt soothed and aflame all at once; he could hardly think what was going on. In their haste, they tripped and crashed against the door. Thankfully it held.

“You smell so good,” Baze moaned into Chirrut’s jaw, now that their naked bodies were finally pressed together. “I kept waiting... I didn’t want to go into season... I needed you, I need you-”

“Take me,” Chirrut gasped. He tugged on Baze’s hair so he would look him in the eye. “Take me. I’m hollow without you. Please, Baze, I can’t wait any more-”

Baze growled again and hoisted Chirrut’s left thigh to wrap about him. The latter obligingly did the same with his right leg, his arms clasped around Baze’s shoulders firmly. He could feel Baze’s cock nudging his entrance and his body spasmed with desire.

Mistaking Chirrut’s trembling for fear, Baze paused, panting, and looked right at Chirrut. “Is this alright?”

“Yes, yes it is. Come on, come on come on come on come on...”

Instead of thrusting up into him, Baze carried Chirrut to the bed and set him down gently. He smiled down at the younger man, but didn’t say a word. Instead, his hand slipped between Chirrut’s thighs and his fingers began to explore and prepare him. Already dripping with want, Chirrut groaned and tugged impatiently on Baze’s hair before sliding all the way down to grasp his cock. Baze nearly choked as he shivered.

Chirrut snarled up at him. “Forget the prep. Take me. I want you _in_ me.”

What Chirrut wants, Chirrut gets.

***

The first time was a clumsy affair, but in the urgency of their passions their unfamiliarity and awkwardness didn’t matter. Only being together mattered. Baze thrust into Chirrut as soon as they worked out how to place their limbs; his teeth sank into the meat between neck and shoulder, drawing a gratified cry from the younger initiate.

The second, third time, they fell more in sync with each other’s bodies, more familiar with the motions and the sensations. Chirrut felt like he was burning up within, soothed only by the touch of his mate - his _mate!_ \- and arched helplessly into Baze’s every touch.

Hours passed without their noticing. Entwined, the bond between them glowed, that shimmering golden link that had tied them together since their childhood now a rope binding them soul to soul.

When Baze and Chirrut were finally able to separate and think clearly again, they both uttered soft prayers of gratitude to the Force.

“Rather profane of us to thank the Force for sex,” Baze giggled, relaxed and silly now that the tensions of his rut had faded.

Chirrut laughed and then winced. The books never talked about how _sore_ they would feel after intercourse. He rolled onto his side and curled up close to Baze. Sated, for now, he just wanted to feel Baze’s warm skin. “The Force brought me to you,” he said. He pressed his mouth to his mate’s shoulder. A handspan away was his bite mark, his answer to the mark Baze had set in him.

“Now I can go to Coruscant with a clear head and a glad heart.” Baze run his fingers through Chirrut’s short, spiky hair.

The younger initiate propped himself up on his elbow. “You’re still going?”

“Of course. I’ve always wanted to go.” Baze brushed the back of his knuckles over Chirrut’s cheeks. “I hope they’ll let you come along with me now. But even if they don’t, I have you to come back to.”

Chirrut wasn’t pleased. “I’d have thought you would want to stay and strengthen our bond.”

“We already have a soul bond, Cricket, even before this happened.” Baze gestured to the lack of space between them. He kissed his mate soundly on the lips to soften his tone. “I love you, I always have. I always will.”

With a sigh, Chirrut relaxed into Baze’s arms. They needed to clean up before they became stuck together, and not in the fun way. The inferno that had blazed through him earlier was now just a smolder in his gut, a pleased memory of what he had to look forward to again when his season - _their_ season - came again.

***

The delegation took off in the wee hours of the morning four days later. Chirrut had been there to see Baze off, and even though he promised his mate that he wouldn’t be a sap about this parting, he still cried after the ship disappeared into the pale blue overhead.

Kiro who was there with him patted him awkwardly on the back. “He’ll be back before you know it,” she assured.

He sniffed and blew his nose on his sleeve. The shimmering heat of their bond was a weak flicker, barely noticeable. He knew it was silly and immature to miss Baze when he was only going to be four weeks away, and with the both of them affirmed in their bond, no one was going to try to usurp Chirrut's place as Baze's mate. Yet the yearning, empty ache inside only served to remind Chirrut of whom he was not with.

Chirrut followed Kiro and the handful of other guardians and initiates back to the temple grounds. However, as soon as Chirrut set foot in the meditation hall to see to the altars, a sudden cramp assaulted his insides. He paused, his breathing speeding up. _What in the Whills...?_

Another clench of his guts made him double over. He gasped and fell to his knees. Perspiration prickled his skin and a burst of heat flooded his veins.

Kiro who wasn’t far away bounced over, her ears folded back in worry. “Chirrut! What’s wrong?”

“Oh shit,” he muttered. He was in season, for real this time. And Baze was away. Before he could articulate his predicament, another burst of sensation overwhelmed him and he fainted.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is from Baze's p.o.v.   
> For Reasons.

What made the separation from Chirrut even more unbearable for Baze was the near-constant teasing. Kalux was not as obnoxious as Shana or Pillenai, but between the three of them, Baze thought his ears would permanently be red with blushing. At least they weren’t cruel about him leaving his mate behind after their first bonding. Everyone in this delegation to Coruscant had fought hard to be there.

Baze wondered if he would always suffer that swooping, empty feeling beneath his diaphragm whenever he was away from Chirrut. He ached, constantly, a low-level distraction that took away part of the wonder of seeing Coruscant’s awe-inspiring skyline. He made do with sketching out everything that caught his attention. He also bought souvenirs for his friends, and personally made a little starbird at an artisan’s stall one afternoon, with their hosts’ encouragement.

The living areas of Coruscant were too noisy and too crowded, in Baze’s opinion. He longed for solitude, but whenever he tried to meditate, there was sound and  _ something _ impinging on his senses. Everything he saw was shiny and luxurious, and made him feel small and unimportant. It was a good learning experience for him, he supposed, since it was humbling Baze in a way that temple life couldn’t, but he couldn’t be comfortable here. He did like the massive library though. It was full of texts from other systems unavailable on Jedha, and the librarians were glad to let him make copies for the temple libraries. Apparently the Chief Librarian had been friends with Master Erdin for a long time.

Master Erdin gave lectures to the padawan for the month, and the initiates were given some lessons with a few jedi knights. The knights had been rather condescending at first, but the guardians-to-be showed them a few tricks. Pillenai and Shana in particular became very friendly with their hosts. On their final evening, Baze decided to visit the library one last time.

“Hey, Malbus,” Pillenai said, appearing out of nowhere and slipping his arm over Baze’s shoulders. “I managed to score a date with the knights.” 

“Are you allowed to  _ do _ that?”

“I am not going to sleep with them,” Pillenai drawled, pretending to be affronted. “But they’re cute and they know the best drinking places in the city.”

Baze laughed and shook his head. “No, I’m going to the library.”

“You are boring.” Pillenai rolled his pretty eyes. “I am so lucky that you’re not my alpha.”

“When we get back, I’ll have you Chirrut tell you that having me as an alpha is... not something to be shared with you.” Baze realized what he was saying midway through and changed his sentence. He blushed when Pillenai threw back his head in laughter and rolled his eyes, adding, “Don’t ask him, alright?”

The other initiate planted a kiss on Baze’s cheek. “You are adorable. And you’ve made sure that I will certainly ask him.” He winked, before sauntering off. 

Baze did admire Pillenai’s slim curves as the latter walked away. He then thought about Chirrut, and a sweet blush crept over him. It would be wonderful to kiss his mate again. Placing a hand over the aching hollowness in his gut, he sighed. Never again would he want to be parted from Chirrut over such a long distance.

As he walked into the cavernous library, he passed a group of Jedi masters, their robes sweeping as they strode. He bowed respectfully.

One of them suddenly stopped. “You. You’re from Jedha.”

Baze looked up. The Jedi master who spoke was a woman with golden eyes and very tanned skin, with dark purple markings framing her eyes and mouth. “Yes, master.”

“Poor child,” she said, her voice suddenly low and sad. To Baze’s surprise, she placed a warm, two-thumbed hand on his head. Her golden eyes turned milky white. “You are bound to one who is marked. He has lost much, but he will gain more. When he goes, you will follow. It will be a bitter road for you the pilgrim, but the Force will grant you one gift.”

_ Force vision.  _ Baze had heard of it, but he hadn’t expected it directed at him. Shaking, he asked, “What gift?”

The Jedi master exhaled and a tear rolled down her face. “That you will not live more than a day after he dies.” She inhaled sharply and her eyes came into focus. Her lips thinned and she shook her head. “Poor child,” she repeated. “May the Force be with you.”

Baze could only stare at her. Then he fled back to his quarters.

***

All through the morning, Baze felt sick to his stomach. So did Pillenai and Shana, although for very different reasons from Baze. They had drunk too much the night before. The farewell ceremony took far too long, in Baze’s opinion, and his attention kept drifting to the hollow ache in his stomach. After that encounter with the Jedi master, he started wondering if the sensation was less a yearning for Chirrut and more of an omen.

Finally,  _ finally _ , the ceremony was over, with Master Erdin presenting a case of raw, untreated kyber, and the Jedi gifting the Guardians with schematics for new machines. As soon as was decorous, he slipped out and went to pack his luggage.

***

“Why are you so jumpy?” Shana asked in a whisper when they were in hyperspace. “I thought you liked interstellar travel. You seemed fine enough on the way here.”

Baze pressed his lips together in an approximation of a smile. “Just nervous about seeing Chirrut again. I miss him.”

Shana rolled her eyes and settled back in her seat. On the other side of the ship, Pillenai was looking very green and Wu Kalux was rubbing the pretty omega’s back in a soothing manner. 

“That last drink was definitely a bad idea,” Pillenai declared to the group. He groaned. “Never,  _ ever, _ order a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster.”

“Why would you even order that? It sounds vile,” Kalux exclaimed.

“It’s supposed to be the best drink in the galaxy,” Pillenai replied, then groaned again. “Ugh. I wish I were dead.”

Shana huffed. “Let us get home safely before you make such wishes, okay? I don’t want the ship to fall apart or explode while we’re in hyperspace.”

Baze shook his head and chuckled faintly. The unease in his heart grew.

***

Protocol dictated that Master Erdin disembark first, but Baze made sure he was close behind, his arms laden with the schematics. The door hadn’t opened yet but the apprehension was about to tip over into full-on terror.

The moment they had entered the atmosphere, Baze had known that something was very, very wrong. Everything felt off-kilter, and where his and Chirrut’s bond used to feel golden and shimmery, it was now dull and faded.

When the door finally opened, Baze scanned the assembled welcoming party, his heart in his throat. 

Chirrut wasn’t there.

Kalux nudged Baze in the back. “Go on, follow Master Erdin.”

Numbly, Baze trudged down the gangway. He handed the schematics to the person beside him - Pillenai, he supposed, but he didn’t look - and stood on the ground, staring around him. There was to be a debriefing with the leaders of the temple. Baze couldn’t recall, exactly, what the procedure was.

Someone touched his elbow. It was Shana, who must have seen the blank panic in Baze’s face. “I’m sure everything is okay,” she murmured, although her gaze was also full of worry.

Baze couldn’t stay composed any longer. His throat closed up and he started gasping, chest heaving, tears springing to his eyes. Darkness swam around the edges of his vision.

“Where is he?” he whispered, clutching Shana’s forearm in a bid to stay upright. “Where is my Chirrut? What happened to him?”

Shana held him as best as she could. Then, someone hurried through the cluster of guardians and masters to get to Baze. It was Fala, one of Chirrut’s preferred sparring partners.

“Chirrut is very sick.” She glanced at Shana. “Medic Arrette says she wishes to talk to you before she lets you see him. And, um, it’s... it’s not good news.”

***

“He took a hormone accelerant.”

Baze stared blankly at the medic, a stout, no-nonsense woman with a formidable jaw and muscles at least as large as Baze’s. “I don’t understand. He was... he was in heat. I-I smelled him. I... I went into rut as soon as I smelled him. That wasn’t faked.”

Arrette shook her head, her iron-gray braids gleaming under the light. “No, it wasn’t. But he took the accelerant without accounting for his own cycle, because he hadn’t had it. So the combined effects of a fading, artificially-induced heat, along with his natural 2G cycle... they have damaged parts of his reproductive system. We aren’t sure if he will ever have another heat naturally.”

A chill crept down Baze’s spine.

The medic went on. “There was another side effect.”

“What? Was that not enough?” Baze snapped. He covered his face and shook his head. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“So am I,” said Arrette. “He hadn’t recovered fully from his induced heat before his body temperature spiked dangerously for his natural heat. His sympathetic nervous system went into overdrive and he was dehydrated, which led to a cascade of different reactions, including fever and inflammation. For a few days we thought we would lose him.”

Baze stopped breathing. He had come so close to losing Chirrut, and he hadn’t even been here in the Holy City.

Arrette patted his cold hand. Then she said, “He clung on. We believe he did it because of you. However, while he stayed alive, Imwe has lost his sight.”

***

Chirrut was asleep. He was thinner and paler. 

Baze stood at the foot of the bed. This close, their link pulsed more strongly, but a faint echo of what it had been prior to the Coruscant trip. How was it that he hadn’t realized what that empty, hollow ache had meant?

Arrette urged him to take the chair next to Chirrut. “Physical contact between mates will encourage faster healing.”

Baze did not want to tell her that he did not want to touch Chirrut. It was irrational of him, he knew that, but he was afraid. What if Chirrut hated his touch? What if Baze’s presence hurt him?

What if even this pale excuse of their bond disappeared?

Unable to delay any further, Baze inched his hand forward to close the distance between him and his mate. He covered Chirrut’s cool, unresponsive hand and squeezed lightly.

Their bond - their  _soul bond -_ flickered, like a candle flame in a room with a draft.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a very short chapter but we are heading towards the finale for this very simple fic :)

It was like resurfacing after a long, deep dive, except Chirrut had thought he had drowned. It was so dark and so cold for so long that he even doubted he was alive, save for that one thin golden thread that tugged at him. 

Baze’s touch was a brilliant, supernova flare in the unending gloom. Everything in Chirrut reached for the light, his soul straining to once again bask in the warmth that was his beloved’s presence. 

When his eyelids fluttered open, his first reaction was panic. Was he still in that deep, yawning abyss? Was he dead? Had he left Baze behind?

“You’re here, I’m here, Cricket, Cricket breathe, breathe, I’m here,” Baze’s voice cut through his hysterical questions. His mate pulled him into a crushing embrace. “I’m here, I’m here with you, I’ll never go anywhere again, I love you, I love you so much...”

Chirrut’s chest rose and fell, fast as a bird’s, and his heart pounded like he had just completed a sprint around the entire temple complex. His fingers were cold, he registered vaguely, and he felt clammy, but Baze was  _ there,  _ Baze was holding him, his breaths heavy and warm. He smelled a little like stale recycled air, but mostly of incense and metal.

Baze had come home.

Memories crept back slowly, mostly fragmented images and snippets of conversation. 

Then it all returned to him. 

The rounds and rounds of bland, mealy broth he swallowed. The medical terms bandied over him as his consciousness swam in and out of focus. The grayness at the edges of his vision. The burning within his gut.

The decoction he had taken.

“By the Force...” Chirrut trembled and covered his mouth. He felt sick with himself. What had he done? The risks he had taken... “Baze, I’m so sorry. I am so sorry. I didn’t think... I shouldn’t have-”

Baze inhaled sharply before he cupped Chirrut’s face and kissed him. It was not a soft, loving kiss. It was ferocious, hard, angry; it was the harshest Baze had ever treated him. But his large hands stayed on Chirrut’s face, roughened thumbs stroking his cheeks, and there was wetness where their faces were touching. 

Finally Baze pulled away. 

“You shouldn’t have,” he agreed hoarsely. “I could have waited out my season - and every other season - until you were ready for me. I would have waited for you.”

“I’m sorry,” Chirrut whispered, almost gasping his words. “I’m sorry.”

He felt Baze press his broad forehead to Chirrut’s sweat-slicked brow. Their breaths mingled, and Chirrut let his tears flow freely. He wished he could see his mate’s face. 

“I could’ve lost you,” he said. The scent of metal grew sharper, almost chokingly dense. “I am furious, Cricket. I’m furious with you.”

“I know I shouldn’t have take the accelerant-”

Baze put a finger to the younger man’s lips. “I’m angry not because you forced your heat,” he whispered. “I’m angry because... By the Whills, Chirrut, you could’ve died. You could’ve  _ died  _ and I wouldn’t have known. I didn’t know what had happened here, I didn’t know... I could barely feel you while I was on Coruscant, and I thought it was because we were so far apart. And then you weren’t there when I got back-” 

A fresh surge of self-loathing and guilt welled up inside Chirrut. Why had he been so selfish and impatient? Why hadn’t he trusted that Baze would have waited to mate with him? A sob shuddered out of him and his entire body went slack against Baze. His meager reserves of energy were gone.

The older acolyte now cradled his mate against his chest. Chirrut could hear Baze’s heart beating. His pulse was faster than usual, and his fingers kept clenching and releasing, like he wasn’t certain if Chirrut really was there. The tang of metal faded, washed away by the familiar fragrance of incense and something else, a familiar, comforting scent that Chirrut couldn’t place.

Then he realized that he was smelling Baze’s  _ emotions _ . He had never really registered that before, other than the time they had sex. Or should he say mated? had intercourse? made love?

“Do you know your diagnosis?” Baze murmured, unaware of the exhausted musings in Chirrut’s mind.

The younger acolyte shook his head. He folded his knees and curled closer to Baze. “I’m going to take a stab in the dark and say blindness,” he joked feebly.

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m sorry.” Chirrut sighed and swallowed his regret. He would never be able to undo this mistake, but he would damn well make sure he would do something to make it up to Baze.

Something must have shown on his face or some emotion must have leaked through their bond. Baze exhaled slowly, as if he was trying to gather his composure. Then he pressed a tender kiss to Chirrut’s cheek. “Sleep, Cricket. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Fear lurched in Chirrut’s heart. What if Baze decided that a blind mate was no good? He scolded himself for the thought even as he pleaded, “Stay with me?”

His mate kissed him again on the lips. “Of course. Rest, Chirrut.” 

_ Baze is home. Baze is here. _

The fact that Chirrut wasn’t alone any more was comforting. Their bond shimmered, still weak, but not as fragile as it had felt in the darkness. Baze mouthed something against the side of Chirrut’s head, but the younger man couldn’t make out what his mate said. Fatigue clawed at him and dragged him into sleep before he could formulate a way to ask.


	8. Chapter 8

Chirrut learned about the damage he’d done to his 2G from Arrette. Baze was with him, their hands linked firmly. The younger man’s breathing stuttered when she listed all the damage that she and the other medics had found while Chirrut had been unconscious.

“I would like to take some samples, with your permission,” she said at the end. “Just some scrapings from the walls of the secondary uterus.”

Baze tightened his hold on his mate. “What are you looking for?”

“Do you want me to give an optimistic or a pessimistic answer?”

“Take what you need,” said Chirrut before the alpha could answer Arrette. “Just... can Baze be there with me?”

Arrette’s stern face softened. “Of course. I’ll have them prep the equipment. It won’t take long and I can give you the results at the end of the day.”

***

It didn’t take long. At the end of the day, Arrette sat down with them in her office and laid out the reports. “As I’ve mentioned, you may not come into season naturally, but that is not carved in stone. However, there is something both of you must know.”

From the look on the healer’s face, Baze knew the news was not good. Arrette herself had to take a deep breath before she turned the reports around for Baze to read.

“What is it?” Chirrut must have sensed the change in mood.

Baze made sure his own voice was steady when he said, “We won’t have children of our own.”

His matter-of-fact tone could not hide his regret. Chirrut’s breath caught in his throat.

“Is it because I-”

“With the irregular seasons and the damage wrought on the uterine lining,” Arrette explained, “you are unlikely to ovulate and, even if an ovum is fertilized, it is doubtful that you will ever come to term.”

Chirrut’s lips trembled. “All that for one stupid mistake?”

Arrette lowered her gaze. “I know it’s not fair.”

“If you say that it is the will of the Force...” Baze warned, his voice thick.

“Choices have consequences,” the healer said quietly. She stood. “Stay here for as long as you need.”

Crying silently, Chirrut gripped his mate’s hands tightly. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” _Sorry I was impatient. Sorry I was reckless. Sorry I was stupid. Sorry I took away our chance of children._

Baze tugged him into a hug and kissed away his tears. He wanted to reassure Chirrut but grief for what might have been engulfed him. His own vision blurred. Rocking his mate against his chest, Baze wished with all his might that he could take all of the pain and sorrow into himself.

Their bright, gleaming gold of their bond darkened. Sorrow and regret wove around it, along with a deep and abiding love for each other.

***

***

Life went on. Weeks turned into months and months turned into years.

Chirrut adapted to his blindness rapidly, falling behind Baze in his studies, but he made guardianship within four months of his mate. Then they formalized their relationship before the temple, to great celebration among their friends.

Baze’s seasons were regular, and Chirrut would help his alpha through them with artificially-induced heats, but after each season Chirrut always withdrew for a day or two. That was the sorrow neither of them could overcome fully, but their shared pain strengthened their bonds. Over the years, Chirrut accepted his limitations, and while Baze always regretted never being able to sire his own children, he never blamed Chirrut. Instead, he took care of the temple’s younglings and helped to foster a few.

Then the Empire came and everything changed.

***

Life went on.

Until they landed on a beach, far from home, and Chirrut walked across it, and Baze followed after, too late, too late.

When the bond shimmered out of existence, Baze recalled that meeting back on Coruscant with the Jedi master.

_The Force will grant you one gift._

_What gift?_

_That you will not live more than a day after he dies._

He cradled Chirrut’s limp body against his chest. For the first time since he was seven, he felt entirely alone.

_“I wish to be with you forever,” Chirrut said as he patted the earth over their baby teeth, buried together in a tiny paper envelope._

_Baze grinned. “Then I wish to be with you forever plus one day,” he declared._

_“You can’t say that! Then you’re with me longer than I’m with you,” Chirrut argued. “That’s cheating.”_

Baze took a deep breath. Not even a day, he decided. He would not be without Chirrut for even a day. He laid Chirrut on the sandy ground. Standing, he took aim.

_Wait for me, Cricket._

**Author's Note:**

> [i have written a book! Please buy one.](https://www.akleewrites.com/)


End file.
